


Just A Dream

by the_ocean_burned



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idk they're not hugely major spoilers I don't think, Nightmares, Sleepy Ronan, but also not really?, slight TRK spoilers, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8354500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ocean_burned/pseuds/the_ocean_burned
Summary: Adam's nightmare is both easier and harder to bear when he wakes beside Ronan.





	

_The demon had Adam’s hands wrapped around Ronan’s throat, tight enough to be dangerous. He was not in control. This was the demon, thieving and destroying what Adam treasured in one fell swoop; killing Ronan by stealing Adam’s autonomy. It felt like a nightmare, but Adam knew it wasn’t. Adam was all too awake and this was all too real and he despised it._

_Ronan’s pulse fluttered wildly beneath Adam’s hands. Adam begged for Ronan to stop him – only Ronan, because now Gansey and Blue and Henry and Orphan Girl weren’t there; they had disappeared one way or another. But Ronan’s eyes gave him the answer that his voice couldn’t._ I won’t hurt you.

 _In that moment, Adam hated how gentle Ronan could be. Adam was literally killing Ronan and Ronan wouldn’t fight back for fear of hurting him, which was a misplaced and irrational thought. Even if Ronan_ had _fought back, Adam would be able to easily separate him from Adam’s father in his head. Adam knew the difference now between a one-sided beating and necessary self-defense. This situation was very definitively the latter and Adam and Ronan both knew it, but Ronan_ still wouldn’t fight back.

 _Adam was already crying by the time Ronan’s lips started turning blue. With no one there to stop him and Ronan refusing to fight back, the demon using Adam’s hands was going to kill Ronan and all Adam could do was stand there and watch. Adam begged for Ronan to_ stop me, please, fight back, please, Ronan, please, _as Ronan’s eyes rolled up into his head. Ronan’s chest heaved desperately in one last futile attempt for air before Ronan went limp, knocked unconscious by the lack of oxygen. But this wasn’t good enough for the demon that only tightened Adam’s hands around Ronan’s neck._

 _Now Adam was babbling, choking on the salt of his own tears, unable to wipe them away because the demon refused to let him go. He pleaded for it to_ stop, just stop, _because he didn’t want to hurt Ronan, but it was too late. Ronan heaved once more, shuddered, and then went still._

_The demon released Adam’s hands and withdrew. Adam scrambled forward, hesitating to touch Ronan for fear of hurting him further. But Ronan was already dead, his throat dark and bruised where Adam’s hands had choked the life out of him._

_Adam cradled Ronan’s head in his lap carefully – he was gentle, but it was too little, too late – and cried. He hated crying, but Ronan deserved the tears. Ronan had trusted Adam and Adam had killed him. This was what came of trying to love Adam Parrish._

 

Adam woke with a shuddering, half-choked sob. He could still feel Ronan’s pulse galloping against his palms; could still feel Ronan’s cooling cheeks beneath his fingertips.

“Parrish?” Ronan’s voice was drowsy and concerned. The mattress shifted as Ronan rolled over beside Adam, then his voice sharpened with wakefulness. “Jesus fuck. Adam. Christ.”

Adam tried desperately to suppress his sobs and regulate his breathing, but it felt nigh impossible with the image of Ronan’s eyes, trusting even as they died, burnt into the back of his own eyelids.

“Adam,” Ronan repeated. “It was just a dream.” Adam shuddered and nodded. Of course it was just a dream. Of course it was just a dream. It was just a dream, nothing more.

Except it _was_ something more. It was a memory, twisted and blackened into something a hundred times more terrible by Adam’s imagination.

Ronan reached out to curl his fingers into Adam’s; Adam pulled away sharply. He didn’t want to hurt Ronan. He wrapped Adam’s hands in his own anyway. A tiny, helpless sob escaped Adam and he shook his head. Ronan scooted closer, holding Adam’s hands against his heart. He knew what this was; this nightmare had plagued Adam ever since that hellish night months ago. Ronan was no stranger to calming Adam down afterward, and he knew that it helped if Adam could feel some evidence that he was alive and, since Adam refused to put his hands on Ronan’s neck at all, his heartbeat was the next best thing.

It took longer than usual for Adam to calm down that night. This was probably because he had seen the aftermath of Ronan’s death in that nightmare. Usually, he woke just after the demon left. Somehow, those last few seconds managed to sicken and horrify Adam more than the rest of it. It reinforced that _he_ had been the one to kill Ronan; that _he_ was the one who had betrayed Ronan’s daringly-given trust; that _he_ had broken his promise to himself and to Gansey: _I will not break him._

When the sobs finally faded into hiccups and a pounding headache, Ronan pulled Adam closer against him. Adam was still shaking and his breath was still raggedly uneven, but he pressed his face into Ronan’s bare shoulder and started tethering all of fears and insecurities to the back of his mind again, where they would wait reluctantly until the next night when he had that nightmare yet again.

One of Ronan’s hands was tangled gently in Adam’s hair, the fingers of the other twined with Adam’s. Adam felt sick. He didn’t know how Ronan could still bear to touch Adam – could allow _Adam_ to touch _him_ – when he had almost died because of the very hands that Ronan seemed to love so much.

After another moment’s silence, Ronan pulled away just enough to press a kiss to Adam’s knuckles. Adam blew out a heavy sigh and offered Ronan a tremulous smile.

“Same dream?” Ronan asked, his voice husky with concern and the fragile remnants of sleep.

Adam nodded mutely, not trusting his voice to remain steady. The pale combination of moonlight and dreamt light filtered in through the slats of the window shades, illuminating Ronan’s softly worried expression. The fuzzy, half-golden light from the window lit Ronan’s cheekbones and the arcs of his jaw and nose in a way that made it look like Ronan himself was glowing. For half a second, Adam deluded himself into comparing Ronan to an angel, but that was as far from the truth as you could pretty much get. But Adam didn’t need an angel, he just needed a person, and Ronan was human in every way. He had his flaws and his vices, yes, but so did Adam, so it didn’t really matter in the long run, did it?

Ronan’s expression had softened into something that, two years prior, Adam would never have thought possible of the coiled pit viper of a boy that was Ronan Lynch. But now Adam knew better than most that the pit viper was merely protection for the soft, downy baby mouse cradled gently between its coils. Ronan brushed his knuckles gently along the raised arch of Adam’s cheekbone, brushing away some of the tears that were drying there. Adam pressed Ronan’s palm flat against his cheek, leaning into the touch with a tiny, shaky sigh. The feeling grounded Adam, mostly because Ronan’s skin was warm and rough, very definitively alive and nothing at all like the cold clamminess it had had in the dream.

“It wasn’t real,” Ronan murmured. “I’m right here. You didn’t hurt me.”

Adam sighed again and shifted closer to Ronan. After a moment, he muttered, “I know that, logically. But I sure as hell don’t in my dreams.”

Ronan nodded and Adam knew he understood. Ronan knew better than anyone how illogical and horrific nightmares could be.

For a while, they lay there in silence, Ronan’s fingers tracing gentle, idle patterns along Adam’s spine. The anxiety from the nightmare slowly bled from the atmosphere, leaving only the peaceful stillness that came with hours too early for most people to be awake. Ronan’s eyes were half-lidded tiredly, and as much as Adam would have loved to fall back asleep as well, he knew it would never happen. Once the adrenaline from the nightmare finally ran out, either fear of the recurring dream or the rising sun and his alarm going off would keep Adam awake, whichever came first.

Ronan ran the pad of his thumb over Adam’s cheekbone again, his eyes soft with sleepiness and the sort of unadulterated adoration that Ronan only ever let himself show in these small hours between when the owls fell silent and the early birds started to sing. Adam was glad for the barely-there lighting; it illuminated just enough for Adam to see Ronan’s expression, two inches from his own face, and it concealed the blush he knew was creeping over his ears and cheeks.

“Have I ever told you,” Ronan murmured a few minutes later, clearly half-asleep, “how much I love you?”

If Adam hadn’t been blushing before, he sure as hell would have been then. He could count how many times Ronan had said _I love you_ to him on one hand and he had said it even less. Not because he didn’t want to, and not because it wasn’t true – _God, it was true_ – but because he simply hadn’t said it in so long that the words felt clunky and foreign on his tongue, as if Adam would mangle them merely by speaking them. Thankfully, Ronan understood, and he didn’t expect anything of Adam as far as that went. Adam was more comfortable showing his love for Ronan in small, nonverbal ways instead of a direct, grandiose statement.

But this was different, because this was a half-asleep, almost cute Ronan and Adam could still feel the dead weight of Ronan’s corpse against his forearms if he let his mind wander far enough. And so Adam leaned ever so slightly forward and kissed Ronan softly, murmuring I _love you, too,_ against his lips.

Ronan smiled, gentle and kinder than most would expect possible of Ronan Lynch, and dropped to sleep. Adam closed his eyes and tucked his head beneath Ronan’s chin, letting himself relax. He wouldn’t fall asleep, he knew, but he was more than content to stay put until his alarm dragged him reluctantly out of bed in the morning. But that was hours away and right then, hours could have easily been the same as an eternity.

 


End file.
